


Scars the Camera Can't Hide

by Seasnake



Series: Miraculous Shorts [6]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blood, Depression, First Aid, Gen, I'm Sorry, Panic, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 10:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13456686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seasnake/pseuds/Seasnake
Summary: Could be AU or Pre-canon.Note the tags. Not a happy story.





	Scars the Camera Can't Hide

Adrien missed his mom. That was the understatement of the year. He missed both parents, he hadn't seen Father since Mom disappeared, not really. He had to be perfect all the time, he couldn't grieve he couldn't feel anything real. The first time he cut himself had been an accident. Now it felt better to do something, anything. He kept it in the shower, marks on his thighs where nobody would see. It was just a matter of doing something, if he couldn't cry without the makeup artists lecturing him he could at least do this. Until he was 18 and they wanted him to do nudes. Everything was fine until a particularly down day when Adrien wasn't paying attention and slashed open his wrist. He stood under the water and stared at the wound for a second. He poked it as blood flowed out. Too deep to hide, would probably scar. He couldn't hide this, someone would see. Adrien panicked for a second, what was he going to do? Would he have to stop modeling? Father would find out; give him that disgusted look. Adrien cut his wrist again, deeper this time and switched the razor blade to his shaking hand to do his left wrist as well. This time the pain hurt more than being a relief but that was okay. Going to sleep and not waking up was by far his best option. He sat against the shower wall and for the first time in ages didn't worry about how he looked. 

...

“Yes, he’ll be there tomorrow, thank you.” Nathalie hung up her phone. She knocked on Adrien’s door and entered his room. “Adrien!” She called for him, surprised to hear the shower still running. He hated long showers, complained they dried out his skin. What was taking him so long? “Adrien?” She knocked on the bathroom door and got no response. She reminded herself he was a teenage boy and might have a reason for hiding in the bathroom. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling something was very wrong. Nathalie decided to risk walking in on teenage awkwardness if only to quiet her doom and gloom imagination.

 

“Adrien?” The bathroom lights were on, shower running, and from behind the wall of the shower stall something red on the floor. Oh god no, please no. She didn’t remember sprinting, only bracing a hand against the tile so she didn’t slip. Adrien lay slumped against the wall, bleeding from both wrists and several smaller cuts on his thighs.

 

            Nathalie dragged the limp boy from the spray and then towards the towel rack. She grabbed the nearest towel and wrapped it around his left wrist. Adrien was still breathing. She needed to stop the bleeding, apply pressure. She didn’t have enough hands. Of course, ambulance, what was she thinking?

 

            She set his wrapped wrist on the floor and knelt on it to apply pressure while scrambling for her phone. She managed to get her mobile out of her pocket and hit the emergency number. Adrien’s other arm was still bleeding too much. She fumbled for speaker phone and set it on the floor.

 

            The operator couldn’t get out her greeting before Nathalie was screaming. “We need an ambulance at Agreste Manor!” She snagged another towel, this one almost too large and twisted it around Adrien’s wrist best she could. The operator was saying something unimportant. “Send an ambulance!”

 

“Help is on the way…”

 

“A+ blood, hurry!” She hung up on that distraction. She had to take a hand off tying the towel to hang up, why did she do that? Stupid.

 

            It would take too long to get a stretcher up here. It would be quicker to carry him down. She couldn’t lift Adrien alone. Nathalie held his wrist up as high and as tightly as she could with one hand and scrolled on her phone with the other. Blood got on her fingers at some point and smeared on the screen.

 

            “Adrien’s room, now!” She didn’t bother hanging up. This towel wasn’t tight enough. She needed to tie it. Tie, tie, hair tie. She yanked her bun out with her free hand and wrapped the elastic around the towel as tight as she could.

 

            Over the falling water she heard the big man running. “In here!” Nathalie hollered until he appeared. “Hold this. Hold his wrist up.” She tried to get him to take Adrien’s bound wrist so she could check the one she was kneeling on. He moved slowly but managed to crouch beside them. “Tightly!” She got off his left wrist to inspect it and raise it above heart level. The towel had soaked through. Should she rebind it, leave it to clot? First aid, what was the rule?

 

            “What’s going on?!” Nathalie looked up. She forgot about him. M. Agreste stormed into the room, took in the scene, and then practically collapsed against the sinks. “Adrien?” Nathalie realized he wasn’t going to be any help. He needed to leave and…the ambulance.

 

“M. Agreste, the ambulance is coming, open the door for them.” She didn’t even think about barking out an order to her boss. Her boss who continued to sit uselessly still. “Gabriel!” He jerked at her shout, eyes refocusing and processing what she said.

 

“Yes, ambulance.” He hurried out the door on weak knees.

 

            Back to her bandages, Nathalie decided to leave the towels as they were and just rewrap as best she could. “I need you to carry him.” She looked the big man in the eyes for possibly the first time in the years they’d been working together. “I’ll hold his wrists.” He nodded and picked up Adrien slow enough for her to follow.

 

            As fast as they could, they walked through halls that were suddenly too long. They made it to the front door right as M. Agreste ushered in paramedics. The professionals moved in a blur around Adrien. Blood type? A+ How long? Don’t know. Other injuries? Don’t know. They pulled the limp boy from her clenched grip. She had to stop herself from going after him. Nathalie blinked sunlight out of her eyes and realized they were now outside. Adrien on a stretcher, the paramedics talking to M. Agreste instead of her.

 

            She watched them load Adrien into the back of a car. M. Agreste followed as if attached by a string. The van doors shut but Nathalie didn’t feel alone until the flashing lights, noise, and panic left; leaving her marooned on the front step. For perhaps a minute there was defining silence. There was nothing left to do.

 

            The bodyguard standing next to her touched her arm and she remembered herself. Nathalie looked down at her sickingly red hands, a stain on her pants too from where she’d knelt on the bloody towel, evaporating into the Paris air. She needed to wash up. She turned around. Maybe the big man led her to the bathroom, maybe she walked unaided, she couldn’t be sure. She was sure he turned on the faucet for her, though, rather than her get it dirty. Nathalie held her hands under the water and stared numbly at her reflection while a man she barely knew washed Adrien’s blood out of her hair.


End file.
